


take a fall (this is how it feels)

by songofwinterfell



Series: lights to the sky [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofwinterfell/pseuds/songofwinterfell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki didn't think it would come to this.</p>
<p>(Spoilers for Thor: The Dark World)</p>
            </blockquote>





	take a fall (this is how it feels)

**Author's Note:**

> I saw Thor: The Dark World about a week ago and I've been a mess since, listening to the soundtrack and writing. The film wasn't perfect, and I didn't expect it to be, but it was much better than I had anticipated. I got lots of feels about everything, especially Frigga & Loki feels. So I wrote this. It's probably far from what would have happened, but I just needed to express my feelings. There might be some mistakes because I'm not a native speaker.
> 
> Marvel owns the characters, and the title is from Icarus by Bastille.

_The Queen is dead._

When he hears the words coming out of the guard’s mouth, he does nothing. He keeps his expression calm, his emotions buried deep, and turns his back to the guard. He listens him go away, the sound of his footsteps fading slowly until it is completely quiet again.

That is when he breaks.

He feels his magic surging in his veins, swirling and writhing. It’s out of his control, a chaotic force he cannot stop. Driven by his rage and grief, it’s burning and tearing him apart, so strong that it breaks through his skin and lashes out. Everything in his cell is destroyed in a blinding burst of golden light.

His feet crumble under him, and he collapses to the floor. His whole body trembles as he wraps his hands around his head, feeling faint. He can’t breathe, and his thoughts are blurry, images of Frigga appearing before his eyes. He sees her falling, blood staining her dress, its crimson colour dark against the blue. He sees her closing her eyes. He tries to push the images away somewhere he will never see again, but they won’t go.

He lets out a sob, his shaking hand covering his mouth. He can’t stop the tears that spill out, and they drip on his cheeks, leaving their paths visible. Drawing his knees to his chest, he buries his face in his hands like a child and shuts the world outside. He refuses to believe the truth.

He can hear his own wrecked sobs, how pathetic he is, but he doesn’t care. The tears come, and he doesn’t try to stop them anymore.

He remembers her, so full of light and joy. Her gentle hands and soothing words, her beautiful tapestries on the walls, her magic lessons in the afternoons. He remembers how she always loved him so, even after all the crimes he committed, calling him her son. How she came to him when the others turned away.

Not his mother by blood, but still the only mother he ever had, the only mother he ever wanted.

He thinks of the last words he ever said to her, and suddenly he is laughing. The sound echoes around the cell, loud and hystercal, and he can’t stop. He laughs until he is crying again, shedding broken tears for his mother, for himself, for all of them.

How fitting, he thinks, that he loses everything after he thought he had nothing left.

He screams and cries until his throat is raw and hurting, until he cannot form a sound anymore. He feels so cold. He had thought he wouldn’t be able to feel anything, that after all this time he would be nothing more than a hollow shell. How wrong he had been.

He has never felt more lost than now.

Later he hears the funeral bells ringing slowly, spreading grief over Asgard and telling the story of her fall. How they must mourn her, their queen who died a warrior’s death, sword in hand, protecting Asgard with her life. Loki knows she couldn’t have died any other way. She was gentle but still strong, a queen in every possible way.

Loki listens to the bells and thinks about her even though it hurts so much, like knives piercing his skin. He tries to absorb everything about her into his memory because he can’t let himself forget her, won’t let himself forget. He remembers every line and angle of her face, the softness of her hands, the taste of her magic, so similar to his. She taught him everything, from simple illusions to spells so strong they had the power to shake the roots of Yggdrasil. He was her child in a way he was never Odin’s, a child of magic and mischief.

The tears have dried, but the grief hasn’t gone away, and he knows it will stay with him until he dies. He sits on the floor, his foot bloody from shards of glass, his eyes distant as he keeps thinking of her. He thinks of all the things he would have said to her had he known her time would come so soon, that she would be taken away so cruelly. He would have told her how much he really cared about her, how much he loved her.

It is sentiment, he knows, a poisonous trap for fools that don’t know any better. They don’t know how it burns everything until there is only ashes left, how it lies and betrays and hurts. He knows, has known for long, but he is still a fool for he can’t stop loving even though it will destroy him.

They ring the bells again. The funeral must be going on, and Loki knows that every citizen of Asgard is there, showing their respect to the dead and sending their souls to Valhalla where they will live again. He swallows hard when he pictures his mother lying dead in the funeral boat, surrounded by fire, on her way to a place where he can’t follow her.

He closes his eyes and starts murmuring soft words under his breath, barely louder than a whisper, an old lullaby she used to sing to him when he was a child. He sings of faraway realms and unknown branches of Yggdrasil, of forgotten legends and magic. He sings it to her, remembering the countless times she sang him to sleep. Now it’s his turn.

He thinks of the stars and how her soul will leave her body behind and rise to the heavens above, to the golden halls of Valhalla. It’s a place for fallen gods, a place where there is no pain or war, only eternal peace.

Tears are falling again as he brings his hands together, still singing. He cups them and breathes into them, watching as a ball of light forms inside his hands. It is small and glowing as it constantly spins around and changes. He looks at it and smiles, a broken little smile full of grief and regret.

The ball of light feels warm in his hands. He holds it carefully, and then he puts every memory of his mother in it. He gathers everything he remembers about her; every moment she spent with him, every word she said, every touch. His lets his magic flow gently into the light, his hands glowing green around it. The ball grows and brightens until it’s shining so much that he can’t look at it anymore.

Loki holds it tightly against his chest, his voice cracking as he sings. The song is coming to it’s end, and so he pushes the ball into his chest. It settles around his heart, tendrils of light curling tightly around it. He closes his eyes and feels her inside him now. It’s not real, it’s nothing more than his memories, but it’s all he has left of her. A story of a mother and her son.

As the last note of his song fades slowly away, Frigga’s soul rises into eternity.


End file.
